


Damage

by bishorn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishorn/pseuds/bishorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rafael doesn't appreciate Stiles's interference. Sure, Kira and Scott get out, but Stiles isn't so lucky. Unfortunately, Scott doesn't get back in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink meme http://tnw-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/4905.html?replyto=833833
> 
> Prompt: That night where Stiles stops Agent McCall from walking in on Scott and Kira in the Sheriff's office, Papa McCall badtouches proceeds to attempt to rape Stiles right there. Scott comes back after realizing Stiles is still in the office and sees them in the act.

Stiles winces as his head bangs against his father’s desk--Rafael’s for now. He curses and Rafael shoves his tie into his mouth. Stiles gags and his mind races as he takes in the current situation. At least Kira and Scott have escaped. Unfortunately, Kira and Scott escaped. Holy shit, he’s going to be raped. Holy shit, holy shi--

A breeze where there most definitely should not be a breeze and sudden cold air jerks Stiles back to reality. Rafael leans over and flattens his body against Stiles, pressing him down into the table until he can barely breathe. His hands rub all over Stiles’s thighs and crotch and Stiles can’t hold back the whimper. He’s starting to tear, heart thumping a thousand miles a minute, squished between Rafael’s chest and the desk. Talk about a rock and a hard place. He chuckles out a whimper and thanks small victories. Hopefully the lack of medication can keep his mind off this. 

Rafael’s fingers enter him, two. Stiles clenches his eyes shut as he knows what’s happening next. A finger brushes against Stiles’s prostate. He bucks his hips involuntarily and it spreads to his whole body by reflex. He blinks repeatedly to clear his sight and a tear escapes. Rafael’s other hand creeps up Stiles’s chest, pausing to tweak and rub his nipples. The treatment grows rougher to tugs and scratches as Stiles moves his hips unwillingly. A moan escapes. 

“Mm, yeah, you like that huh,” Rafael says into Stiles’s ear. “You look so beautiful like this, all soft and pliable. You don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting this.”

The hand wanders even higher and rests on his neck. Stiles stretches it to avoid the heavy pressure of Rafael’s fingers. He instinctively bares it to Rafael, a byproduct of spending time with a werewolf pack. Rafael’s teeth nibble on the skin there as Stiles stills as best he can before moving up and kissing the corner of his mouth disgustingly gently. Stiles feels his stomach curl and twist.

Rafaels fingers are relentless against his prostate and Stiles finds pleasure despite himself. 

“I wonder what your daddy would say if he knew I was fucking you right on his desk. He’d call you a whore too, I bet. Look at you, wiggling your hips like you’re begging for it.” 

Stiles tries to fight back as he hears a zipper but Rafael uses his free hand to pin Stiles’s. There’s a rough sting, a slap on his ass, before being kneaded roughly. Soft moans and mewls escape his throat. He feels a heat at his rear and tries to jerk away, but Rafael’s hands clamps down on him. 

Rafael takes his time, rubbing the head of his dick at the hole and continuing the kneading. Stiles is sobbing in anticipation. Every drag of his cock across or down the crevice sends his nerves firing and another opportunity for Rafael to enter him. He forces himself in.

There’s a burn and Stiles lets out a muffled shriek. His breath hitches as he tries to relax to accommodate the size but he’s back to hyperventilating soon. It’s horrendously painful and he can feel the skin stretch and split.

Rafael’s hips pump into him, hitting his prostate repeatedly, bringing pleasure where it should never belong. Stiles presses his hips forward to get as far away from Rafael as possible, but it’s useless. He moans and whimpers against the thrusts. Rafael doesn’t say anything for a while and all Stiles hears is his own betraying sounds and the slap of skin. There’s a slickness now and he doesn’t know whether its blood or precum. He doesn’t know which he’d rather it be.

There’s an intense pleasure intermixed with the pain that cause his hips jerk involuntarily as Rafael hums in his ear. Stiles moans and groans but he can’t break free. The tie in his mouth is sogged and disgusting and a heavy weight on his dry tongue. Rafaels hands scratch over his nipples, finding sensitivity where he never knew. They give a brief cursory tug on his cock, sending him bucking. There’s attack on his senses all over his body and he doesn’t know what to focus on. Every part feels like it’s on fire. 

He loses his footing against the rocking and Rafael lets his hands wander down, bruisingly hard on Stiles hips, clamping them down. He hikes Stiles up and it pressed Stiles’s dick painfully between himself and the desk. The pain distracts him for a moment, but before long, Stiles can feel the slide in and out and in and out with too much clarity. Each thrust in seems like it’s plunging into further depths and explores crevices of his body that he never knew existed. It’s filling him more than he ever wanted, a big weight that’s pressing down on him like an anchor--no not an anchor, an anvil, perhaps. 

He tries to use his finally free arms to push himself up and Rafael off, but his rapist gives a particularly ferocious thrust and the desk corner digs into his hips painfully and Stiles gives a surprised jump and squawk. 

“Fuck, you little slut,” Rafael growls. “You’re clamping down on my dick so hard, you want it so bad, hm, you whore. You’re filthy. Does Scott fuck you too? I bet you love it. You’re shaking your hips so good. Maybe I should make you dance for me later. I’ll do it with my come all inside of you and make you lick any that leaks out right off the floor.”

There’s a disgusting spurt of warmth spreading through him as Rafael gives a final thrust and stills. He slides out slowly and Stiles can feel every single inch exiting his body. The heat slides out after and trickles down his leg, cooling slowly.

There’s the snaps of a camera and Stiles jerks. He winces as his ass stings. Rafael chuckles. He sits down in the Sheriff’s chair and reaches over to tug the sodden cloth out of Stiles’s mouth. Some of his drool drips to the paper on the table.

“You’re so beautiful you know? Your daddy doesn’t know how good he has it. He should be keeping you happy and stuffing your holes as often as he can. Make you suck a rubber dick as he hammers your ass,” Rafael’s fingers stroke Stiles’s cheek and settles on his mouth. “Let’s put those beautiful cock pads to good use. Clean me up, and make it good.”

“We’ll see how much you like it after he finds child pornography on your phone,” Stiles says with much more venom than he can offer.

Rafael shoves Stiles head down to swallow his cock. Stiles gags. He can taste the warm, salty bitter taste of cum that was just in his ass. He can still feel the remaining cum leak out and drip onto the floor. He smells the musky scent of Rafael and cringes. 

“He must be easy to get off if this is all it takes. I’ll do him a favor and teach you how to do it right. He’ll thank me for it when he’s just sitting at home and all he has to do is for you to warm his cock.” Stiles growls and the buzz of his throat draws a satisfied sigh from Rafael. There’s another snap of his camera phone and and a few more in succession. “Come on, come on, use your hands on the part you can’t reach or I’ll shove my cock all the way down your throat.”

The sooner he can get this over with, the sooner he can go. He ponders the likelihood of escaping after biting Rafael as hard as he can. 

“Don’t even consider biting. And don’t you worry about my child pornography,” Rafael patronizingly patting Stiles’s cheek. “After all, it’d be far worse if these are found on your father’s computer, wouldn’t it?”

Stiles freezes but his heart races and feels panic set in.

“It’d be worth it to make this good, hm? Keep sucking.”

Stiles closes his eyes and tries to force himself not to gag and slow his heart. He flattens his tongue and starts a suction. He winces every time the cock hits the back of his throat, trying not to heave. He notices Rafael getting closer as his moans increase and the hand at the back of his pushes with more urgency. He struggles to get enough oxygen to prevent hyperventilation. Rafael’s bucking his hips up and forcing his dick to scratch at Stiles throat. 

And then, there’s a loud noise that softens Rafael and jerks Stiles up. 

There’s a vicious growl and he’s ripped away from Rafael, who’s pushed back and into the wall with a disturbing crack. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Rafael is picked up by the collar. Stiles’s heart is pounding as he recovers from nearly choking and coughs, trying to dispel the need to retch. It slows as he realizes the red glow is just Scott. Glorious, wonderful, Scott. 

“Scott…” Stiles winces at the raspiness of his voice that gives away the debasement he just experienced. “His phone. There’s pictures. There’re pictures on his phone. Delete them. Please.” 

Scott drops his father and scrambles for the phone. His plunges a claw through it and crushes it with superhuman strength. He grabs Stiles and stands him up, helping him pull his pants back on. Rafael groans. Scott rushes Stiles to the car.

“I told Kira to go to the party first, but I was worried when you weren’t coming out,” Scott says as he unlocks the Jeep. They go in and Scott makes sure Stiles is settled before hesitatingly asking, “Do...you want to report this?”

Stiles stays silent. In a quiet voice, “No.”

“Are you sure? I mean...I--I saw enough to know you can get him convicted.” Scott reaches out in an attempt to comfort. 

Stiles jerks back. “Don’t touch me!” He’s breathing erratically and Scott hears the heavy panic setting in. His breathing is getting shallower and his heart is thumping like a rabbit’s in Scott’s ear. Stiles corners himself into the corner between the seat and the door, hunched over and vulnerable.

“Hey, hey, shh,” Scott murmurs. He draws his hand back. “It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure he won’t be able to do anything. I mean, you’ve got a pack of werewolves behind you.”

Stiles makes a watery smile that’s more of a grimace and Scott continues, “It’s okay. Count with me. One...”

Stiles repeats it after him and they count to ten. Stiles breathing is more controlled. He takes a calming breath slowly as his hands clench and unclench. Scott notices them trembling. 

“Can we just go home?” Stiles murmurs. 

Scott starts the car. “Look, if you don’t want to report it, you should at least talk about it with someone. I mean, your dad is going to notice this.” He looks over at Stiles, still holed away in the corner. “You know I’m here for you whenever you need it, right?”

“Don’t worry about it. My dad thinks he doesn’t even know me anymore,” Stiles says bitterly. “He still isn’t quite over the werewolf thing yet. Besides, it’s won’t be that noticeable, with the nightmares from the Nemeton.”

Stiles shifts and winces. Scott glances over, knowing there’s something else on Stiles’s mind. 

“I already make him worry enough. I made him lose his job and he’s under investigation now.” Stiles stares forward. “He’s looking at the past ten years of cases trying solve them with supernatural factors. I’m going crazy from the Nemeton and I don’t even know if I’m awake half the time. He already treats me like I’m glass. I don’t need to put this on him either.”

“None of that is anything you should be worrying about,” Scott glances at him. 

Stiles is silent for a few moments before he opens his mouth again. He can still taste the acrid scent of Rafael on his tongue. He doesn’t think it’s ever going to go away. “It’s just that you guys are all werewolves. You’re strong. And I’m...I’m just me. I get into trouble all the time and I’m annoying.I’m just the weak little human who can get hurt and get fucki--”

“Don’t say that!” Scott’s eyes flash red. “You’re not weak and it wasn’t your fault. He’s an asshole who’s fucked up in the head and I’m going to make sure he never messes with you again.”

His claws are digging into the wheel and he swerves. They’re at Stiles’s block anyway so he slows and comes to a stop at the curb of his house. Stiles’s shoulders are shuddering. Scott reaches over very gently and pulls Stiles into a hug.

They stay there for a while.


End file.
